Diners, Drive-Ins, and Death: A Comfort Food Mystery

by Christine Wenger

  Ty cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Antoinette Chloe. I know you wanted to tell him first. But the matter came up in the course of my conversation with Sal.”

  Liar, liar, jeans on fire! I knew he had wanted to beat ACB to Sal all along.

  She quickly pulled her hand away from Sal. “I want to know about his final wishes, Sal. Did he ever tell you anything as to what he wanted for his arrangements?”

  “Didn’t he tell you, Antoinette Chloe? I hear that you and my brother were quite the hot biker duo. How could you do that to me? My own brother!”

  “You can’t tell me what to do anymore, Sal. We’re divorced, remember? I didn’t cheat on you, like you cheated on me with that bimbo.”

  “It’s the biggest regret of my life, babe.”

  I jumped out of my chair, outraged. “What about the man you poisoned, pal? The bimbo’s boyfriend. And what about the fact that you tried to kill me and ACB? Don’t you regret any of that?”

  I felt Ty’s hand on my sleeve, tugging me back into my seat. “Hey, let’s not rehash old crimes. Trixie, you should sit down before the two stooges bust in here.”

  Antoinette Chloe sighed. “Sal, what would you like me to do with Nick?”

  He shrugged. “The cemetery out in the country—what’s the name of it?”

  “Restful Souls. We have a double plot there. Remember?”

  “Can you add on a plot for Nick?”

  “I’m not going to be buried next to you, Sal. Not anymore!” She shook her head. “My soul will never be able to rest.”

  “Okay, then give my plot to Nicky. You and my brother can share a dirt nap together.”

  Ty must have seen it coming, because he caught ACB’s fist just inches before it connected to Sal’s unshaven jaw.

  “Antoinette Chloe, you sit over there.” He pointed to the chair farthest away from Sal. “Trixie, why don’t you join her?”

  I gave Sal a dirty look and joined ACB.

  He leaned over like he was sharing a joke with Ty. “What a woman!”

  Ty nodded. “I can’t argue with you there, but how about answering Antoinette Chloe’s question like the gentleman I know you are?”

  Sal hung his head. “It’s hard to remember what I was like before.”

  “You’ve only been in here five months,” Ty pointed out.

  Sal pushed up his short sleeves. “Are you kidding me? Just look at this amateur clink ink. I’d never put up with this bad ink on the outside.”

  “I recognize the crest of the Double R. It’s not a bad ink job, Sal,” ACB said from across the room. “Of course, I can barely see it from way back here.”

  To me, it looked like a big rubber tire with two R’s inside it. Not a difficult design for even a clink ink artist.

  “I don’t recognize the insignia,” Ty said.

  “Me and Nicky belonged to the Roving Rubbers, a rough bunch of upstate New York chefs,” Sal said, flexing his biceps. I saw Ty perk up at that.

  “‘Where the rubber meets the road—’”ACB sang.

  “‘We will rove!’” Sal and ACB finished together.

  “You know, the Rubbers accepted me as one of their own, Sal. After all, I’m a chef now,” Antoinette Chloe said.

  “The hell you are!”

  “I sure am. Who do you think is running my restaurant these days?” ACB said.

  Uh, probably Fingers, her new cook!

  “Uh, let’s not start anything,” Ty interrupted. “Out of curiosity, just how tough are the Roving Rubbers?”

  I knew what Ty was going for. Sal could have used a fellow Rubber to wipe out Nick.

  ACB laughed. “I know the RR code. For instance, we swear that we’ll always use real butter instead of margarine. Oh, and we don’t use cookware or utensils that aren’t made in the United States.”

  “Probably the toughest is our leader, Toxic Waste,” Sal said. “He owns Bill’s Bavarian Restaurant up in Ogdensburg, but he’s anxious to open an additional restaurant. And, yeah, he’s tough. He’s done some time.”

  “State time?” Ty asked.

  “Community-service time. In one of the parks up there.”

  “Oh, I’m absolutely terrified,” I said under my breath. “Those Rubbers are just wild.”

  ACB stifled a giggle.

  “What did he do?” Ty asked.

  “He had a lot of outstanding parking tickets.”

  I could see that Ty was trying not to laugh, too. “Any of the Rubbers have a grudge against Nick?” he asked Sal.

  “Yeah. Me. ’Cuz he was with my woman,” Sal snapped, then calmed. “Actually . . . that’s not true. Nick is . . . was . . . a good guy. Though now that I think about it, Toxic Waste did have some beef with Nick.”

  “What kind of beef?”

  “Nick made a play for Toxic’s position. He wanted to take his place as head of the Rubbers because Toxic lost a Michelin star. Apparently, Nick didn’t think he was worthy to run a club of chefs. But Toxic blamed Nick for making him lose that star. It’s a long story.” Sal shook his head. “Oh. And Nick stole Toxic’s girlfriend. That didn’t sit well with Toxic. He’s very loyal and protective of all his women, you know.”

  “What a guy,” Ty said. “So, Sal, talk to Antoinette Chloe. What about Nick’s arrangements?”

  “Well, first, Ty, I’d appreciate if you’d find out who stuck a blade into his neck,” Nick said.

  “I will. And if you can think of anything I should know, tell your counselor, and he’ll put you through to me. Personal calls are limited, but legal calls aren’t.”

  Sal looked sadly at ACB. “Sweetheart, why don’t you get another double plot? I’ll pick up the tab—just call my lawyer and he’ll give you money. It was supposed to go for my appeal, but let’s face it: I’m never getting out of this hole.” He turned to Ty and chuckled. “Ty and the district attorney, along with yours and Trixie’s testimonies, did too good of a job putting me in here. So, do that, babe. Get another double for yourself. A beautiful woman like you will find a guy worthy of you. That way, Nicky and I will rest together, and you can rest with your new man. How’s that?”

  There were tears in Sal’s eyes. That little speech was hard for him to say.

  “All right, I’ll make arrangements through Hal Manning, then. Of course, I’ll put a write-up in the Lure. I’m sure Joan Paris will help me. I’ll have one night of calling hours and a little service at Hal’s Happy Repose Funeral parlor and another service at the Restful Souls Cemetery.”

  “That’s nice of you, Antoinette Chloe,” Sal said.

  “I loved Nick. A lot. He was a good to me after you were sent away, and we had a lot of fun with the Rubbers. I needed that.”

  Several sharp knocks interrupted the ACB and Sal truce. The Two Stooges. Sal stood immediately.

  ACB stood, too, and waited until they entered the room. “Can I hug my ex-husband before you take him away? For old times’ sake?”

  They were going to deny her request, but Ty held up his hands. “I’ll vouch for Antoinette Chloe. She’s clean. Besides, you’re going to search the prisoner anyway before you take him back to his cell, right?”

  The shorter guard nodded. “Yeah. Go ahead and hug, but make it quick.”

  I had tears in my eyes as the two of them hugged. They were both in prison jumpsuits and both of them were in their own lonely prisons. Sal deserved what he got, don’t get me wrong, but ACB’s life had fallen apart—twice. Yet both times, she picked herself up, dusted her muumuu off, put on fresh makeup, and made another hat.

  I admired her, and I hoped she knew that.

  She broke away from Sal, kissed him on the cheek, and turned to Ty. “Let’s get out of here. I have a bunch of beauty queens to take care of.”

  Ty sighed. “It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.”

  * *
*

  I was glad when the gate opened, then closed as we were outside the walls of Auburn. Thankfully, the medieval-looking prison with its guard towers, turrets, and razor wire were behind us.

  The ride back was uneventful. Once again, ACB was mostly silent and just stared out the window. I could hear her sniff every now and then, and I handed her a pack of tissues from my purse.

  “Thanks, girlfriend,” she said, plastering on a few coats of foundation.

  “Need anything else, ladies?” Ty asked. “Coffee? A pit stop?”

  “I just want to get back to Sandy Harbor,” ACB said. “Prison is too depressing.”

  No kidding!

  I wanted to get back and see how the Miss Salmon Committee was taking care of things. They said they’d get the rooms ready for the rest of the contestants who were due to arrive shortly.

  “We could always have lunch at the Silver Bullet,” I said. “The specials today are goulash and Spanish rice. Both come with a couple of sides and fresh Italian bread that Juanita makes from scratch.”

  “I’ll have to take a rain check. There’s a couple of things I need to do for the case. One of them will be to search Nick’s house. And, Antoinette Chloe, I wish you’d told us sooner that Nick was missing.”

  “I do, too. But I thought he was just . . . roving. I never thought that he was dead.” She sniffed. “I think I’ll go to Margie Grace’s with the girls,” ACB said. “Then I’ll stop and see Hal Manning. But thanks for the lunch invitation, Trixie.”

  “Do you want me to go with you to Hal’s?” I asked.

  “No. I’ll be fine.”

  Ty dropped us off at the Silver Bullet, where ACB had left her car. She hugged us all and drove away in her van.

  “Save me some of that goulash, Trix.” Ty put his hand on my shoulder. “I need to stop in at the office and bring everyone up to speed.”

  “Can you bring me up to speed?” I asked.

  “As to what?”

  “As to what you got out of Sal. You were in there with him for a long time before we all met him together.”

  “You pretty much know what I know.”

  “‘Pretty much’?”

  “Trixie, stay out of it. I’ll do my job and you do yours.”

  “But ACB is my friend. I want to find out what happened. Maybe then she’ll be able to put everything to rest and move on.”

  But from the look he gave me, I knew that he wasn’t going to give up anything. So I waved good-bye as he got into his cop car. Then I went into my diner to see if everything was running smoothly.

  And to see if Sarah Stolfus had made a delivery of fruit hand pies. Cherry, please.

  Everything was okay, but Sarah Stolfus hadn’t made her delivery yet. So I began the short walk to the Big House.

  Hmm . . . after going to Auburn, a real big house, maybe I shouldn’t call my Victorian the Big House.

  Along the way, my cell phone rang. It was Antoinette Chloe. What on earth?

  “Hello?”

  “Trixie, I lied to Ty. I’m not going to the Miss Salmon practice now. I’m going back to Nick’s house. I forgot to pick up a couple of things when we were there last. Come with me, please?”

  “Do you really need me?” I asked. “Just get your things and get out of there.”

  “I can’t stand the thought of going into Nick’s house now that I know that he’s dead.”

  There were so many things I needed to do, but nothing was more important than helping a friend—even if it meant going with her into her deceased boyfriend’s house yet again.

  “Okay. I’ll be right there.”

  Fifteen minutes later, we were going through the front door. ACB ran immediately to the master bedroom. At first glance, it appeared that nothing had been upset, but I knew that Ty and his gang of state police would descend on the place soon.

  I followed her.

  She opened the bottom drawer of the dresser and pulled out a . . . black leather thong. Her name was tooled on the back strip of leather.

  “Where is that camera?” she asked, pulling out dozens of black T-shirts and tossing them on the floor. Finally, she found a small red camera and let out of whoop of excitement.

  “A camera?”

  She giggled. “I can’t even tell you what naughty pictures are on that camera, but I’m so glad that I found it!”

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  “In a minute. I want to look at my sidecar and Nick’s bike one more time,” she said. “I’ll take a couple of pictures. You know, for memories.”

  “Let’s hurry.”

  We went into the garage, and ACB took tons of pictures. Then she froze like a statue and slapped her head.

  I was glad that she wasn’t wearing a hat, or it would have flown to the next county.

  “I’ll have to sell everything,” she said. “Crap! I never thought of how I’d have to sell Nick’s things. His house, his bike, my sidecar. His convertible. Oh, I forgot about the big shed out back! And look at all these tools and tool cabinets! I’m getting overwhelmed. Who should get the money? Sal can’t use it where he is. Oh, I guess I can donate the money.”

  She was rambling and looked like she was ready to fall apart.

  “What about your drive-in, Antoinette Chloe?”

  “I don’t know. I lost my enthusiasm for that project. I’ll have to think about it, but for now, I can’t even think about the drive-in. Especially after we found Nick’s . . . body on the land I wanted to build it on.”

  “Are you done here?” I asked, concerned that she was going to burst into tears at any moment. “Why don’t you take a break and go back to my house and lie down?”

  “I can’t. I have to go to Joan’s office at the Lure. I have to put an obituary for Nick in the paper. And I really have to see Hal Manning.”

  Hmm . . . maybe Joan had a scoop or two after pillow talk with Hal, although Hal had loose lips even without pillows being involved. A visit to both of them might prove helpful.

  “Antoinette Chloe, how about if we work together and find out what happened to Nick?”

  “Just what I was thinking. I owe it to Nick to find out who killed him.”

  “We still have to take care of the pageant girls, shuttle them around, feed them, and put on the pageant. We both have to cook at our restaurants, too. In between, we’ll have to follow any leads about Nick. Oh, and you have to take care of funeral arrangements. His house and contents can wait for a while, don’t you think?”

  What was I doing? I was adding to her anxiety, for heaven’s sake.

  “Yes. All that can wait, but Hal Manning can’t. Let’s go, Trixie.”

  So we went to Hal’s Happy Repose Funeral Home. His office was very modern, if we were still in the disco era. Shag rugs in various colors covered everything, even the walls. I’d been to calling hours here before, and the room was tasteful and nice, but I’d never been in his lime green shag office.

  I wondered where he did his coroner duties.

  “Sit down, ladies. Obviously, I know why you’re here.”

  Reaching into a small fridge, he pulled out two bottles of water and set them down in front of us. I went for one.

  “The world has lost a good man and a good cook,” Hal said.

  “Chef,” ACB corrected.

  “Chef,” Hal repeated. “It was a shame that he had to die that way.”

  ACB dabbed at her nose with a yellow bandanna. “What way, Hal?”

  Hal hesitated just a second, but I pushed.

  “I think that Antoinette Chloe has a right to know, Hal. They were very close.”

  “He died from a knife cut to his jugular vein. He bled out on the dirt not far from where Ed dug him out.”

  Eew. Picturing that, I took a couple chugs of water. It sloshed around my empty stomach.<
br />
  “A big knife?” I asked. “Like a big bread knife or a meat cleaver?”

  “Nope. He had a small but perfectly placed cut. It had to be a thin, very sharp knife.”

  I grabbed ACB’s hand and squeezed it. She was turning white under all the makeup that she slathered on during our ride back from Auburn.

  Twisting open the cap of the other bottle of water, I handed it to her. “Take a couple of deep breaths. And drink some water.”

  Hal Manning definitely had loose lips today, but nothing else he mumbled about had much to do with Nick.

  ACB made the other arrangements and wrote out a check for Hal. Then we told him that we were on our way to see Joan.

  “Tell her that I’m in the mood for spaghetti and meatballs,” he said.

  ACB shook his hand. “Go to my restaurant. Tell Debby that it’s on me. Oh, Joan’s going to be late getting home because she’s going to be working with me on Nick’s obit. I want it to be perfect.”

  We drove over to the Lure office. Sisters May Sandler and June Burke, retired schoolteachers, were in the reception area. One was typing on a huge computer, and one was on the phone. They worked at both the library and at the Lure part-time and were two of my first friends when I arrived in Sandy Harbor.

  When they saw us, they waved. We waved back.

  “What do you need?” May shouted.

  ACB pulled a green bandanna from her cleavage closet. “I would like to write an obituary for Domenick Brownelli, and was hoping that Joan could help me.”

  “I’ll call her and see if she’s available.”

  But Joan opened the door to her office and walked toward us. Thin walls, I guess.

  She hugged us both and escorted us to her office. It was filled with autographed pictures and framed front pages of some of the Lure’s hottest stories.

  Nick’s obituary was painful for Antoinette Chloe, but she pushed on.

  Finally, she had a finished product:

  Domenick “Nick” Floyd Brownelli, age 55, of Sandy Harbor, New York, rode his Harley into the sunset on Tuesday, September 1, 2014.

  Nick is survived by his brother, Salvatore “Sal” V. Brownelli, formerly of Sandy Harbor, now of Auburn, New York, and Nick’s girlfriend, Antoinette Chloe Brown, the current owner-operator of Brown’s Four Corners restaurant in Sandy Harbor, New York, and who will definitely miss her beloved Nick.